


White

by ChangingbacktoBellamort500



Series: White, Red, and Blue [1]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Breastfeeding, F/M, Masturbation, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangingbacktoBellamort500/pseuds/ChangingbacktoBellamort500
Summary: It's just a normal night in the Stillwell household
Relationships: The Homelander | John/Madelyn Stillwell
Series: White, Red, and Blue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870981
Kudos: 40





	White

**Author's Note:**

> Written by a friend who gave me full permission to post this one shot.

There was never a doubt in her mind about it. She loves her baby. Adores him. She doesn't believe in God, but she does consider herself blessed, lucky to have him, and to have lived after bringing him into this world. Through sheer stubbornness and lots of a certain compound.

Her little James. He's one of the few things she genuinely cares about. But that doesn't mean she enjoys waking up at three in the morning almost every night. 

Her eyelids heavy, she hums a little lullaby, tries to calm lil' James Stillwell's cries. She figures out eventually the reason he's awake this time-- he's hungry. Always so hungry, her baby boy grows twice as fast than the average child.

Lil' James pulls off her nipple with a cough when he's done, and she thumbs away any excess from his mouth.

Madelyn cradles her baby, puts him back into his crib. He's full, and dozing off to sleep once again. A kiss to his forehead, before she heads back to her own bed.

It's a quiet walk back to the room. She's careful not to disturb her husband when getting back into bed, not bothering with the covers. Arm under the pillow, eyes closed, she finds herself drifting off to sleep again.

That is, until she feels a mouth on her chest.

"...John." mumbled in half hearted exasperation. But John keeps on pressing kisses to her breasts, each one closer and closer to pink. The sheer nightgown barely veils over her skin.

"You're leaking," He replies, tone in some sort of defense. Madelyn lifts her head to look, and— she is leaking. Always so full. Once she starts, it takes a lot to stop.

Not the most convenient side effect, but undoubtedly his favorite.

Groping and squishing her breasts, John's looking up at his wife all puppy-eye'd and pleading. Asking for permission, like he's not already squeezing it out of her.

Inhale. "Fine," exhale. "Make it quick, dear."

And apparently, that translates to 'yes, you can rip apart my nightgown'-- because that's exactly what he does. If she weren't the highest paid woman in this country, she'd protest a little more at all the fabric he tears.

There's not a moment's pause, before his tongue laves at her nipple, and he tskes it into his mouth. Between his teeth, the lightest squeeze, eyes still looking up at her. Madelyn's face heats, and her back arches off the bed slightly at his tease.

"John," she complains, hand moving to the back of his head. A tug on blond hair, a warning.

He listens, closes his eyes, and starts to suck, lightly. His cock twitches the minute white hits his tongue. 

It tastes sweet, she's always so sweet, creamy-- he's hard as a rock, pressing up against her thigh. Her other breast gets cupped, massaged, John never one to neglect what's his. He curls his body around her, as if to covet her, hiding his wife from the world.

Her hand combs through his hair, before cupping the back of his head, slightly leaning him into it. A soft sigh leaves her lips, and she rests back onto the pillow. Ever so loving, she moves her hand from blond, and slips it under his pyjama pants. She can feel him leaking, and though she can't see his cock, she can imagine how flushed and red it is.

"That's it," she says, voice like a lullaby, soft and only for his ears. John's mouth moves to her other breast, eyes half-lidded, glassy. Like he could get drunk off of this alone. “That’s my good boy.”

Her strokes are quick, fast, and his moans are muffled. The last of warm milk gets suckled out, and he caresses her breasts for every last drop. 

It's not long before he comes, staining her hand, tainting his pyjamas. Ever the quickshot. Madelyn's laugh is soft, as she wipes her hand on his pants.

Lapping up whatever milk's left, he pulls his mouth off with a pop, satisfied. Clear white drips down his mouth, and he laves it away with his tongue.

Sated, he lies his cheek on her chest, stares up at her like she’s his own personal heaven.

“Go get cleaned up,” she murmurs. As cute as he is, she doesn’t want his sticky pants against her thigh.

“In a minute.” John replies, pressing a kiss to her chest.


End file.
